


Call it Sentiment

by wiildflowers



Series: we laugh & it pits the world against us [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, Gratuitous use of Camus quotes, Illegal Activities, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-14
Updated: 2018-03-14
Packaged: 2019-05-01 10:24:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14518434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wiildflowers/pseuds/wiildflowers
Summary: The only way to deal with an unfree world is to become so absolutely free that your very existence is an act of rebellion.





	Call it Sentiment

**Author's Note:**

> There are various quotes from Albert Camus because who doesn't like references to absurdist literature in their DC fanfiction?

Boredom had managed to fester its way through their shared apartment just as thoroughly as the moonlight did before they left, and this was the result.

 

The duo were all hushed voices and faint smiles, adrenaline-filled blood rushing to their cheeks due to the frigid weather outside. Relaxation was wonderful, and severely lacking in their line of work, although every once in a while this sort of thing was needed to get rid of any lethargy. It was occasionally necessary to trade in the day-to-day comings and goings as  _‘average’_ citizens for the sound of laughter echoing off the buildings of Gotham and a reminder that one wasn’t a part of the group of sheep most of those buildings housed.

(Jon made a feeble attempt throughout the string of robberies to remind himself that it was not scientifically possible for Edward’s eyes to be sparkling in the darkness the way they seemed to - a few seconds later he decided that they were breathtaking either way.)

 

The night hadn’t been as eventful as either of them had really hoped, more injuries had came from it than much else. Their need for excitement had been sated, and only at the expense of Edward’s now-sprained ankle and a few assorted scrapes. With a few uneven footsteps, Edward disappeared into another room, leaving Jon to guard the shoes left in the doorway. Jon wasn't sure what, but there was something about driving away from lights flashing red-and-blue immersed in shades of moonlight that just couldn’t be explained verbally.

(Especially not with a partner riding shotgun whose hair shifted into his eyes in copper brushstrokes when he smiled, reflected in the crimson stoplights the car raced past.)

 

It was a purely involuntary response - muscle memory - that caused Jon's lips to twitch up in a smile when he saw Edward making his way back into the room, armed with a too-large shirt and an expectant expression. The almost-smile widened a bit at the yawn that fell from the male's lips a few moments later. He supposed it was time for bed, judging by the already-ruffled state of Edward's hair and the flighty way he seemed to shift on the heels of his feet, as if waiting for Jon to follow him. The ex-professor did. In fact, Jonathan made a beeline for the bed only a few seconds after the lights flickered off, collapsing onto their already-worn comforter with a loud sigh of relief. 

(It had been a long night; and although they had a bag full of money to show for it, the exhaustion had still settled into his bones and the sleep had already begun to weigh down his eyelids.)

 

He felt the bed give way next to him, before a soft _whump_ was heard and a warm body found its way next to his, twisting and turning in the sheets for a few moments before finally growing still. There’s a funny little flutter in his ribcage at that, a sudden movement from Edward making him nestle a little closer than he had been before, focusing on the steady sound of his boyfriend’s heart beating, and beating, and beating, ever-persistent. Ever-present.

(A sort of amiable silence filled the air after that, marred every few seconds by the sound of heavy breathing.)

 

“This is awfully tame," feeling the need to point out the obvious, Jonathan also let a wry smile rise to his lips as his Southern twang made more of an appearance in an obviously sleep-muddled state. Edward couldn’t exactly deny it.

(Of course he wanted a better story. Who wouldn't? But Edward's lips found their way to his forehead and it felt like a benediction. It felt like the beginning of a new story, unfolding and flourishing in the early morning's first rays of sunlight.)

 

Within a few more minutes, the brunet’s breathing had evened out along with his heartbeat, and the ginger was almost positive the male next to him was, indeed, asleep.

(Edward wasn't scared of many things. Oblivion, alcoholism, loss of wit, and Jon, he's terrified of Jon because the brunet has the power to destroy him and he doesn't even know it, doesn't have a clue. Edward was less afraid of dying than he was of losing him and that was terrifying too. But a too-bony elbow pushed against his stomach before unfurling to wrap around his waist, gently tugging him closer, and he left those thoughts alone for the feeling of a warm body against his own and the sound of shoes at the front door going nowhere.)

**Author's Note:**

> In all honesty I'm not sure of how I feel about this oneshot. I don't think I like it all that much. I wrote it for a friend a while back and it just never read right in my mind. But hey, maybe that's just me.


End file.
